My November Guest

My sister, Joan and I have been walking in the November rain of late and even though I like the feel of the cold rain on my face, the surroundings sometimes look a little desolate.  Robert Frost now has me seeing with new eyes.

My November Guest

My Sorrow, when she’s here with me,

Thinks these dark days of autumn rain

Are beautiful as days can be;

She loves the bare, the withered tree;

She walks the sodden pasture Lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.

She talks and I am fain to list:

She’s glad the birds have gone away,

She’s glad her simple worsted grey

Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,

The faded earth, the heavy sky,

The beauties she so truly sees,

She thinks I have no eyes for these,

And vexes me for reasons why.

Not yesterday I learned to know

The love of bare November days

Before the coming of the snow,

But it were vain to tell her so,

And they are better for her praise.

Robert Frost

4 thoughts on “My November Guest

  1. Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem. I’m experiencing something akin to sorrow this morning but reading how this special Sorrow feels has made me decide to go outside and experience the sodden earth and even the blowing snow this morning..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I believe feeling sorrow is good at times, for me it is sometimes calming and soft; but isn’t it nice that “simple worsted grey” can become “silver now with clinging mist.” Thanks for your comment.


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